Roses, Violets
by fiesa
Summary: Mitsuhide is being pursued. Kiki is amused. Zen, not so much. OneShot- The Second Prince and his aides, the summer before. Complete in five parts.
1. White Lilies

**Roses, Violets**

 _Summary: Mitsuhide is being pursued. Kiki is amused. Zen, not so much. OneShot- The Second Prince and his aides, the summer before. Complete in five parts._

 _Warning: -_

 _Set: Story-unrelated._

 _Disclaimer: Standards apply._

 _A/N: Status (three months after reading ch. 92): still crying._

* * *

 **i. White Lilies**

It is summer.

The violet wisteria is climbing over every window sill and every pillar of the castle. The heat is only somewhat mellowed by the cool breeze the winds carry up from the harbor; it rustles the flags and banners adorned with Clarines' coat of arms and makes the tapestries with the Wistalia's sigils flutter. It is a hot summer, sweltering and humid. Occasional relief comes in form of abrupt thunder storms and lightning flashing across the sky; already, two small fishing fleets were caught by surprise but made it home just so. It is the summer of your eighteenth year, just so, and you are irritable and itchy within the confines of the castle, restless and weary with something you cannot name and do not want to attempt to. Also, restless with the desperate need to hide just that. Because these stupid knights of yours – one of them, especially – is too kind and too naïve and too annoying and way too perceptive.

" _Zen_."

At the whispered reminder, you throw the man who is standing two steps behind you a furious glance, but you do close your mouth.

In a long row before you – that would, actually, be before your royal brother, Prince Izana, crown prince of Clarines, but he is absent and you are the only one left – stands the newest batch of knights, freshly graduated. They hail from all parts of the country: there is the dark green color of the Order of Celeg, and the muted blue of the Knights of Firidan. It mingles with the striped white-and-black of the Order of the Cross, mixes with the red of the Gressidarians. They are kneeling, the future knights, while the Head of the Council of Lords reads off the scroll; welcoming them to the castle and into Clarines' knighthood and preparing them to take their oath.

Your eyes are fixed on someone you have just spied in the long row of kneeling knights-to-be, and you do not dare move in fear that it might disappear. That it might be a fata morgana, short-lived and illusory. You are so thrown you turn your head minutely in Mitsuhide's direction and whisper, without moving your lips: " _She's a woman!"_

The snort that comes in response comes from your other side, though, so quiet you almost miss it. Then you realize the source, and the implications of your outburst.

"Sorry, Kiki," you whisper. "I know there are female knights. I was just… surprised."

Indeed.

Kneeling among the knights is a woman, clearly distinguishable by her long, dark-brown and curly hair and her clear features. She has green eyes.

 _Beautiful._

The Lord Councilor calls the knights' names, one after the other. You wait, almost holding your breath, until –

"Thalia Namassos, do you swear…"

Here, it begins.

* * *

It is summer.

That means the castle is bursting. Bursting with activities, with new soldiers, with the familiar change-of-the-guards. There is Visitor's Day, the annual opening of certain parts of the castle for the public. And Zen is busy as ever, energetic as ever; but it is a nervous kind of energy. You have been with him for three years now. You have known this prince for three years and what feels like an eternity and he is ever unable to sit still; escaping the long-winded council meetings and running from desk duty and preferring inspections over evening galas. But this summer it is especially difficult.

This summer is different.

You did grow up with certain conceptions towards gender, but you never felt it separated men and women enough to discriminate against either. In the one-and-a-half years that Kiki has been your partner, you have come to appreciate the calm, quietly strong woman at your side. She is as loyal and dedicated as you are, and you are beginning to trust her with Zen's life, too. So seeing a female knight on the training ground, even if it is not your partner, is no cause for you to feel anything else than mild curiosity.

"Good morning, Knight Rouen" she greets you, fist-to-chest, as is befitting for a newly inducted knight. She is two years younger than you are. You know because she is the source of the current palace gossip and you have made it your personal quest to always know about the gossip – in case it affects the second prince. You do have learned enough from the past (and from past experience) that it is never wrong to know who spends his time in the castle and could catch the prince's eye. Technically, it is a Sisyphean task, there is a steady change in the castle, soldiers and knights coming and going, servants and maids shifting and leaving. But you remember a different time, another summer, two boys meeting after hours and in the darkness. The summer that ended in tears and a resolution, and with you vowing to stay with this boy whatever might come.

"Good morning, Knight Namassos," you reply. She just seems to have finished some warm-up exercises and appears relaxed and calm. Unlike you, who shed your order's colors when you became Zen's knight, she wears the deep-green, familiar badge. Thalia Namassos is famous for two things: she is the first female knight in generations, and is Celeg's first female knight. "How are things at the garrison?"

"The Commander sends his greetings," she tells you, and one of her delicate brows slips past her hairline. "Pardon me asking, but is he angry with you?"

The memory is vivid and warm, and you laugh. "Is he still? I think he was unhappy I decided to leave with Prince Izana, three years ago."

Thalia laughs, too. She has a pretty laugh. "So the Crown Prince stole the future vice commander. The Commander does know how to hold his grudges." She throws you a sidelong glance from beneath her lashes at you and straightens. "Sir Mitsuhide, I heard a lot about Celeg's best knight since Sir Arthurius the Brave. Would you care to spar with me?"

It is natural to smile for you. "And I heard a lot about Celeg's best lady knight. I would be honored to cross swords with you."

* * *

It is summer.

On the Eastern plains, where your family's mansion is located, summer is wet and cool, as opposed to the same season in Wistalia. Years of cool rain and grey, cloudy sky have taught you to love the sun, and the humid heat of the coast is welcome. Your skin burns easily – but you enjoy the heat and the warmth, and summer has become your favorite season.

You have come to know the Second Prince well in the almost two years that you have come to serve as his knight. Two years since they rescued you – he and Mitsuhide – and you still have not yet found the words to tell them how much that means to you. This summer, Mitsuhide is exactly like he always is, and Zen is irritated and bored by hours of work spent behind a desk. So when he drops his pens and stacks the papers, impatiently, you go along, thank him for his work and follow him out of the office and into the shadowy corridors of Wistalia Castle. This place has become a home for you, more than perhaps Evergreen Manor ever was. But maybe that was because your home was permanently filled by your father's shadow. Zen walks through the corridors aimlessly, greeting guards and servants alike, stopping to chat, sometimes just passing by with a nod and a wave. When you reach a balcony he stands at the open banister, his face in the wind, and looks down at the gardens below longingly.

"Are you going to jump and run?" You ask.

It startles him enough to have him huff a small laugh. "Before you came to the palace, I would have done it without a second thought."

"You still can."

His grin grows and he shakes his head affectionately. You have startled him out of his dark thoughts for a moment and it makes you feel relief, even if it will not last. "Nah. Mitsuhide used to follow me anywhere, and then, you came. I cannot have my knights jump out of windows and over balcony railings, how would that reflect on me?"

You feel the smirk tug at your lips. "I see."

Zen's smile vanishes. He sighs again and leans onto his elbows. "The palace has such large windows and open balconies, and yet it feels like a prison, sometimes."

There is a lot that can be said in such a situation. You have learned to remain silent, to listen first. And to answer only then.

"Are you unhappy, Zen?"

"No." He shakes his head and shrugs at the same time. You think he feels unsure, or torn, dissatisfied in some inexplicable way. And as if he is angry at the same time – angry at himself. "I do not mind being the second prince. This is a good life I am leading, in a good place."

It is a struggle you understand only too clearly. You could tell him – tell him about your father, fill in the blanks you left when you first discussed the terms of your stay at the castle and in his services. _Five years._ Still more than three years left, and somehow – it feels like it is not enough, never will be. You could tell him you understand. But sometimes, people have to find their own path.

"Would you care for a spar?"

He lights up almost visibly, shooting a grin at you, and the spot of your heart that is reserved for him warms in amused fondness. "I am going to beat you this time."

It makes you smile: Zen's endless enthusiasm, his boundless optimism. His refusal to be bitter at something he yet has to understand.

"You do anyway, half of the time."

Since you came to the castle, you have sparred with Mitsuhide almost every day. You are almost as good as he is by now – _almost._ That, in extension, means that in a fight with Zen, your chances are fifty to fifty. You will never have the strength both your partner and your liege lord possess. But what you lack in strength, you make up in speed, and it is the main reason why you can easily hold your own against the prince. Mitsuhide – Mitsuhide is different.

"Let's go to the knight's training area."

Mitsuhide would let it slide, probably, but you are not him. Then, again, his way of teasing Zen is far more effective, because it comes at such unexpected times.

"Do you want to meet the lady knight of Celeg?"

He blushes, stutters. He is precious, that way, innocent as he is, despite – or maybe precisely because of? – his age and upbringing. He makes you smile.

"I just want to talk to her!"

For that alone, you would serve him with your whole heart.


	2. Pink Zinnia

**ii. Pink Zinnia**

Mitsuhide is talking to her when you and Kiki reach the training grounds.

You noticed her right away, even hidden as she was in the long line of newly inducted knights. She caught your eye right from the start: she is tall and whip-thin, unlike Kiki, who is smaller than you are and a lot more – _ahem_ – voluptuous. Her dark, curly hair is bound in a ponytail that it seems to be constantly trying to unravel, there are curls falling down the sides of her face today, too. And her eyes. Her eyes are bottle-green, like a cat's, like the Eastern Plains when the monsoon season hits. When she smiles, they light up like a firework.

"Prince Zen." Mitsuhide tends to be more formal when strangers are involved. Not for the first time, you resent it.

"Your Highness." Thalia Namassos bows formally, which gives you a second to compose yourself.

"Knight Namassos. Please, on the training ground I do not stand for such formalities."

Cue fireworks.

"Congratulations on your successful induction. The entirety of the soldiers in Wistalia Castle have already heard of Celeg's best knight and are impatiently waiting to meet you."

"Thank you, Prince Zen." She answers your gaze open and honestly and you fight the blush that creeps into your face. Your ears probably are red already. What is it with this woman that makes you feel so silly? "It is an honor to serve."

How to you answer such a thing? You probably know, but your mind is blank. You flounder. "How do you like the palace?"

She laughs. "It is very big, Prince Zen."

You cast a look at Mitsuhide, desperately, and he smiles back at you. That does it. _Stupid idiot!_ Once you are done digging a hole and disappearing in it, you will throw him out for being an unhelpful fool. Thalia turns to Kiki, as well.

"Knight Rouen and I were sparring just now. There is still a lot I have to learn, and he agreed to teach me. I hear you are his usual partner. I hope you don't mind if I take up his time? He indeed is the best, as the rumors say."

Kiki nods, impassively. Mitsuhide smiles.

Why is it, you wonder, that Mitsuhide dies of embarrassment every time a maid or servant lady as much as smiles in his direction, but takes Thalia's compliments with a grin?

"I am looking forward to the things you will teach us in return."

Thalia turns back to Mitsuhide. "Do you have time tomorrow, Knight Rouen?"

And there it is – suddenly. What is it? There are no words for it, no sentiment. For some reason, the uneasiness… it is there, just like that, and you feel the unpleasantness rise in your throat like bile.

Mitsuhide looks at you questioningly.

"Go ahead," you say and try to swallow through the vileness. "Kiki will cover for you."

Kiki's face is completely impassive, but they don't need words, anyway. _(Sometimes, you envy them.)_ Mitsuhide grins. "Thanks, Kiki. It will be my pleasure, Knight Namassos."

Fireworks. Sparks of life, green-on-green.

"I will take my leave then, with your permission. Your Highness. Knight Seiran. Knight Rouen, I am looking forward to learning from you."

And off she goes. Her hair dances in the summer breeze, and though Kiki catches you staring after her for too long she does not comment on it.

* * *

It started innocently enough.

Thalia Namassos is a brilliant knight, strong and quick, and despite being trained in the same place you once were she fights in a completely different style. It is intriguing. And every spar with her teaches you more, things you never even thought of sometimes. It is a lesson in humility, and, at the same time, expands your knowledge. That is why you became a knight in the first place. That is why you enjoy training with her, even if your favorite opponent forever will be Kiki.

(You are almost, but not quite, evenly matched by now. The way Kiki smiles when you cross swords, flashes of silver, the song of the waterfall under the mountain – you yet have to find a word for it.)

Thalia.

You sparred with her a few times, and one or two times, Zen and Kiki passed by to watch. And then Zen challenged her, and she agreed, and this is where you stand right now: Kiki and you, watching from the side lines as Thalia and Zen circle each other. The summer sun is hot and the air sticky and humid but the shadow under the trellises is cool. Zen frowns in concentration, his movements measured and his shoulders so much less tense than they were in the past months. Kiki's presence next to you is familiar; quiet but watching intently, and you feel… _at ease_.

You could stay this way, you think.

"Score!"

Zen and Thalia move back into ready positions. Zen is grinning now, the last point was his. Thalia, on the other hand, is completely focused; unlike Kiki she does not smile when she fights. Her eyes search for a weakness in her opponent's stance. Zen is holding his sword in a way that opens up his side; you make a note to yourself to remind him of this later on.

The round ends with the odds in Thalia's favor.

"Thank you for the spar, Your Highness." Thalia offers the second prince her hand. "The next round will be yours again."

Zen mumbles something and ducks his head to inspect his gloves, and your suspicion solidifies like rain freezing to snow instantly in a blizzard.

 _Ah._

Your prince is not very subtle when it comes to his own emotions. He clearly enjoys spending time with the female knight, she is just his age, after all, and she is a good fighter. She lacks some of the finesse you expect of swords masters, but she is young and her reputation speaks for itself.

And.

Zen is so strong; but he is weak, too. And he is lonely. He gets along with all the soldiers on guard duty and the palace staff, even with most of the councilors. But getting along is not the same as having friends. You are aware that he counts Kiki and you as his friends, his only friends, even, and you are proud to be at his side. But you also know that, first and foremost, you are his aide, his sword and his protector. If it comes to it, you will always put him and his safety first, and that… it will always stand between you. Thalia…

As it goes, she is a good choice for a companion, you think.

"That last move was brilliant," your prince says, looking up again, smiling. "Could you show me the next time?"

Thalia drags the now-useless hair band from her locks and shakes out her dark curls before gathering them together and confining them to their usual ponytail again. Zen stares, somewhat helplessly.

A companion. But more?

Here is a prince who grew up within a palace, sheltered and protected _._ Who hungers for closeness and friendship. A prince who never experienced anything like romantic love.

 _This will be going nowhere. It will break his heart._

 _But shouldn't he be allowed to experience it once?_

Heavens help you, if the boy falls in love, let him have that, at least! This one shred of normalcy, of youth. Zen deserves to be happy, to experience these morsels of normalcy and happiness fate keeps snatching away after dangling it in front of his face for months, _years_ , it is just so _unfair_ to him, why, why can he not be a young man like every other young man, for once? Why can he not sleep in and play hooky and meet girls and stay out, just once, just this time? You want him to have this, too, all of it. Whatever he wishes for.

(At the same time, you _wonder_.)

"Of course I can," she says. "How about tomorrow?" She turns towards you. "Will you be there, too?"

Zen looks at you, so young, so excited, and you cannot help but smile. _Just this once._ "Why not?"

"Great! I will see you tomorrow, then." She nods at Kiki and smiles at you and Zen, and takes off.

Kiki elbows you in the ribs and you start, but when you turn around to ask her what is the matter she is looking into another direction entirely.

* * *

He has a dozen good traits.

Mitsuhide, that is.

Your partner is the kind of person that would have made you very uncomfortable in the past: a bit like your father, good at everything he touches. A bit like nobody you know: kind and patient, only willing to use the considerable influence he has on Zen in the case of emergencies. Polite, without expecting anything from others. Selfless to a degree that makes you freeze in indecision.

Sometimes, you still cannot decide whether he is the greatest fool you ever met, or the cleverest person on earth.

But he, undeniably, is blind when it comes to certain things in life.

Another day of hot, dry summer air, sweltering sun and a stuffy, breathless office and the only relief is the cool shadow of the training hall, where the breeze from the ocean enters through the high windows. The scent of the wisteria is overwhelming.

Zen is sitting on the ground, his back against the wall that separates the spectator's seats from the sparring grounds. Mitsuhide is next to you, still wiping sweat from his brow, and Thalia is just taking her leave.

"Would you like to have dinner tonight, Mitsuhide?"

They are on first-name basis now, apparently, and you see Zen frown unhappily.

"I apologize," your partner returns, regretfully. "But we have plans for tonight."

"Oh," Thalia says, and hides her own unhappiness behind a smile. "Then tomorrow, again?"

"You seem to enjoy sparring a lot," Mitsuhide says, innocently enough.

The female knight smiles without any subterfuge. "I enjoy the company."

Mitsuhide laughs. "We are very much alike, Knight Namassos."

 _Oh, Mitsuhide_.

Thalia has only just left when three soldiers round the corner and spy him.

"Rouen!" One of them calls out, and, when they are within earshot: "Did we just see Celeg's one and only female knight leave? Were you _sparring_ again?"

The heavy emphasis is unmistakable. Kiki does not flush. Mitsuhide does.

"It's not like that," he protests. "We just train."

"Is that what you kids call it these days?" The second soldier jeers.

"There's nothing going on between Thalia and me," Mitsuhide hisses, now blushing badly. "Stop that!"

"I don't think she would regard it as _nothing_ ," the first soldier says, leering. "Did you see her looking at you? Come on, Rouen, what's the harm? She clearly likes you."

At that, Zen knocks over his sword. It clatters to the ground with a metallic ring, startling all four men above him and making him scramble for his weapon without much dignity. The second he has to compose himself is not nearly enough, but he manages.

"Gentlemen," he greets the knights who stare down at him, dumbfounded and aghast at being caught gossiping like teenage girls by their very own second prince. You know how much Zen means to the soldiers and common knights: he has been training with them for years now, talks to them like to friends. Regards them as his friends, and, however unlikely that might be, they see him as a friend, too, even if a special, elevated one. He behaves like one of them among their midst, and their respect for him and adoration is almost greater than their respect and loyalty to the Crown Prince. One of them is their Commander, but one of them is a soldier like them.

"Your Highness," they stutter. "We did not see you there-"

"At ease," he tells them and gathers up his sword. Stands. "I was about to leave, anyway. Keep up the good work, soldiers. Mitsuhide, stay. Kiki."

And he turns, striding off. You follow on his heel.


	3. Blue Hydrangea

**iii. Blue Hydrangea**

Maybe it is the heat, the summer unbearably hot unlike anything you can remember.

The sun burning down on the castle grounds, drying up plants and humans alike. The guards rotate on a faster schedule to protect the soldiers from heat strokes. The horses are led outside in the early morning hours. The dogs in their kennels barely lift their snouts at you when you pass. Even the usually cool stones of the heavy castle walls warm up these days.

Maybe it is the work, finally getting to you. The endless stacks of parchments that need your attention, a decision, a signature. _Responsibility._ Maybe it is the people around you that rely on you, their trust – but also their expectations. They are making you feel itchy and restless, empty and too-full; like something is scratching at your ribcage from the inside, burrowing out of you without ever reaching its goal. You feel like imploding, except that that would be a relief and relief is hard to come by no matter what you try.

Maybe it is the fact that, for the first time since you can remember, not only your mother left Castle Wistalia completely but your royal brother, too. The Crown Prince had announced his desire to spend his summer in different climates and left weeks ago, for an inspection journey without a defined time frame. You are used to growing up without a father, and your mother left to take up residence and govern the Northern Realms years ago. But your brother had always been there in the past. Izana might not look like an ideal brother but he always had been a good brother to you, challenging you to rise to the occasion, to never give up and never back down. There have been days when you felt that the entire world, Mitsuhide and Kiki exempted, was against you. And then you remember that the court raised you, and your brother, and that the fact that you are so angry with him probably is due to the fact that you miss him, even if your last months of interaction have been strained. Your brother is your hero, your role model and something like a father. But there is only so many times you can remind yourself that you love him when he is better at anything he does, stronger, more intelligent, more diplomatic. Izana is First in everything that matters and many more things. You, on the other hand, will forever be the Second Prince.

The Castle never felt emptier to you.

Sometimes, you manage to forget. Sometimes, when you talk with the soldiers, or watch Kiki and Mitsuhide spar. And, nowadays, also when you train with Thalia. She is an amazing knight, her speed and technique are intriguing, and her smile still throws you off. It is probably because it reaches her eyes. There are so few people who smile honestly around you; she is one of them. It feels like she sees you _–_ actually _you_ , not the prince, not the second son to the king – and that is… Intoxicating.

She is also, very obviously, _not_ into you.

 _Zen Skye Wistalia, Prince of Second Choices._

"Knight Rouen!"

Her eyes start shining when your Sword is near. It is something in her easy smile that changes when she lays eyes on him, something in the tilt of her shoulders that changes when he is there. As if something in her instinctively turns towards him, shifts towards him like you have never seen with anyone before. _(Is this love?)_ They talk and laugh, carefree and easily. It has become a regular occurrence by now, these afternoons on the training grounds. Mitsuhide shows Thalia – and you – old and new techniques, instructs you, corrects your stances. Then, you spar with Thalia while Kiki and Mitsuhide watch from the sidelines. It feels like you are a means to an end. It feels like you are a cheap replacement. It feels like something – something thorny, spiky, something unbearable – is worming its way into your chest, and it collides with the things that try to explode from inside you, render you speechless and sleepless and desperate. But. Training with Thalia takes the edge off it a bit, for a while, and you cannot help yourself: you look at her, and look, and look, and the second she returns your gaze your eyes dart away. It is like she is the poison and the cure at the same time, and.

You hate it.

You do not think you want it to stop.

You do not know whether to laugh or to cry, and that shows in almost constant bad temper and mood swings. You hate it – you hate yourself for it – but you cannot help it. Thalia is pretty, she is clever, she is strong – she is everything you ever thought a woman was supposed to be, and many more things.

"Are you alright, Zen?"

Mitsuhide looks worried. He has been by your side for years now, and you know when he is worried and when he is simply playing dumb. His love for you shines from his eyes, sometimes, like he cannot contain it, like his oh-so-tall body is too small for all the things he feels. Sometimes you wonder why nobody else can see it, it is so obvious, is it not? Even Mitsuhide himself knows. At the same time, he looks at you with these guileless smiles and his heart in his eyes and his love, his worry and his loyalty for and to you all plain open to see. He can read you, is tuned to you in a way you sometimes wish your brother would be and then discard again, because, really, _no_ _it's better that way._ If Mitsuhide knows you so well, though, why can he not see what is going on right in front of him? It is maddening, it is insanely aggravating and frustrating and so, so _painful_ and you want to shout at him to not be so stupid and _dense_.

But he looks so _worried._

And it is not his fault, after all, is it? It is your own. Stupid, stupid Mitsuhide. Stupid you. Stupid heart that has stupid crushes and wishes for stupid things you cannot ever have.

* * *

It is Prince Izana's absence, and it is so much more.

It is a boy growing up in a palace without his parents and only with a distant brother, learning the rules early, taking up the burden of responsibility far too soon. It is a boy living in a beautiful palace that is a cage, at the same time, a boy living a life anyone else might wish for but that he did not choose. It is the absence of friends his age, coupled with the sense of duty he carries like a shield and like a burden, has carried since the day you first encountered him after he had jumped down from a balcony and had hidden his disdain at someone being made his nanny behind a wide, innocent smile, but not before you saw it. It is the work, and the open sky above all of you, and the promise of summer stretching on and on and then dying, turning to fall, without anything ever changing.

It is the fact that Zen, like every human being, wishes for things he cannot have and that you cannot give him, and that pains you even more than the simple fact that you can see history repeating itself, over and over again.

At one point during this summer, this endless, glaring summer that is full of hours of hard work and brilliant, stolen but oh-so-short moments of peace, Zen's mood tips from restless and unhappy to depressed.

You notice, and you worry.

Since Prince Izana is not there, most of the representative work falls on the Second Prince. You know Zen does not mind the audience-like meetings with civilians of all ages and statuses; in fact, he rather enjoys those, being able to listen to the peoples' worries and problems. What he does not like are the meetings with council members, among them, first and foremost, Lord Haruka. As Prince Izana's oldest advisor, the Lord holds a sizable amount of responsibility whenever the Crown Prince is absent and that means that Zen has to deal with him on an almost daily basis.

He also is a conservative, stuck-up, entitled aristocrat who regards it as his duty to have an eye on the Second Prince during the Crown Prince's absence and who believes in rank and duty more than he probably believes in God. You have the sneaking suspicion that breaches of etiquette cause him a never-ending migraine, and his perpetual frown speaks in favor of your theory.

It would explain so much.

From behind, Zen's shoulders look even more strained than ever. Standing at his shoulder, you are a lot taller, and yet his presence towers over the man standing in front of his desk.

He has grown so, so much, you think. And the thought… Hurts.

"I am aware of my status, Lord Haruka."

Zen looks like he is only holding back his fury with a major effort, something you have to talk about to him. He is the second prince. He cannot go around losing his temper because he does not feel well. But personally, you share his fury, right now, so you just freeze your expression and grip the pommel of your sword.

"I know my duty towards Clarines. Rest assured that I am not planning on eloping; neither today, tomorrow or in the future. Other than that, I do not see how my association with Knight Namassos might, in any way, be your concern."

"It has come to the notice of the public," the lord answers, stiffly. "And the picture the Royal Family holds in the peoples' eyes is of major concern to me. You have spent an extraordinary amount of time with that female knight. It has not gone by unnoticed. Do you deny this?"

"I do not need to deny or confirm anything." Zen's fists curl under the table. "And you are right, of course, Mylord. I will not say that the way I spend my free time is of no concern to you. But I will also not remind you of the fact that I am the Second Prince, and that I know my duty."

"Your Highness," the man answers stiffly.

"Thank you for your hard work. You may leave."

Lord Haruka leaves.

At his desk, Zen drops into his chair and grinds the palms of his hands into his eyes, speaking without looking up.

"Has my brother sent a message as to when he will return?"

It is incomprehensible to you how this eighteen-year old prince can be so mature and responsible, and yet so vulnerable and innocent at the same time. He knows his duty, knows it by heart and lives it, more so than any other person you ever knew. But he also struggles with himself on a daily basis. It is a conundrum, one you think you never will be able to solve.

(Sometimes you think there is nothing left to solve, really.)

You check the mail every morning. He knows you do, knows he is the first to know if you see any letter addressed to him. He also knows that sometimes, his Royal Brother does not deem it necessary to send a note beforehand to inform him of his movements.

"He is still in his castle at the border of Sui."

Zen leans back, sighing. "What is he doing there? I don't get him. He only gives me certain provinces to govern and keeps the rest to himself. But he leaves the castle for half a year, forcing me to deal with all those nobles and council men and women?"

"Maybe that is why he does it," you suggest, drolly, and Zen's sigh almost shakes the stacks of paper on his desk. But it also paints a smile on his face. Small, hesitant. But a smile nonetheless.

"Nah. He is up to something, I know it. I just don't know what yet."

"It is not as if you are responsible for everything in the castle," Kiki says. She has been there the whole time. It is not like you forget, but. Maybe she is a part of you so deeply already. "In fact, you're not even doing the complete administration."

Zen rolls his eyes. "Way to make me feel better, Kiki, thanks. You're right, but it sure feels that way, sometimes." He straightens up again and searches his desk for his pen. "Anyway, no use in stalling. What else have we got for today?"

Your Prince works until dinner, and then a little bit after that. He does not go to the training halls, like it has become a habit for all of you in the past weeks. Instead, he saddles his horse; Kiki and you follow him on horseback as he races through the forest on the castle grounds without looking back, even though he usually avoids them. After the day's stifling heat, the cool shadow under the crowns of the trees is pure relief. When you return, he goes straight back to reading the latest report from Wilant; and almost falls asleep over the document.

"Zen. Come on." You coax him back to his quarters, where he promptly drops onto the covers of his bed, still-dressed, face-down.

"You didn't go to the training grounds today," he mutters, almost to himself. _I didn't go to the training grounds today._ And falls asleep, restless and exhausted.

You feel your heart expand in the confines of your rib cage.

"I'm proud of you."

His hair is soft underneath your fingers; he is still six years younger than you and smaller, but he looks so much more tired than the young prince you first met years ago. Sometimes, you think with a quick pang of regret, you forget that you are not the only one aging.

"Good Night, Zen."

You cover him, carefully, and leave his chambers.

Kiki is waiting outside, vigilantly guarding her liege lord. She looks at you with that empty expression of hers that tells you so much and so little. She has also been strangely absent-minded for the past week; even in your worry for Zen you noticed. You suspect it has something to do with the courier that arrived from Evergreen Manor; the pattern was established some time ago. But. Kiki does not appreciate anyone meddling with her affairs, never had. Sometimes, you wonder: should you ask? Should you try to gain her trust up to the point that she might tell you about her worries, about her strife with her father? Strangely, something inside you balks when it comes to it.

Some things, you do not want to know.

 _(So who is the idiot here, you wonder.)_

"He's taking it hard," you say, not necessarily to her. "I know I was all for letting him have this time with Knight Namassos, but I am not sure it was a good idea in the first place."

Some people say Kiki's expression is like a closed book. You do not agree. Now, she frowns, almost imperceptibly. "He needs this."

"Maybe. But he also knows that it is something he cannot have. Maybe he will have the luxury of falling in love with the woman that is meant to be his wife, some day. Queen Haruto and His Majesty the former King learned to love each other. But there is no way he will be allowed to marry a knight."

"It is not like he has to marry her immediately."

It makes you laugh, a tiny little bit. "No. You know what I mean." But the humor leaves in a rush, leaving you shivering. "I should not have let them get so close. I was enjoying teaching Zen and her so much I forgot myself. He enjoyed her presence, and she was happy to see him, as well…"

"So typical," Kiki says, with an expression in her grey-blue-grey eyes that you cannot read but that you have the nagging, nauseating feeling is _important_.

"What?"

"She has been asking _you_ , Mitsuhide."

You can feel you frown deepen. "Asking me what?"

"Did it occur to you even for a second that she requested training with you because she has feelings for _you_ , not for Zen?"

The world just… Stops. Freezes in possibilities you have cast aside as silly and impossible.

" _What?!_ "

"Oh Mitsuhide," Kiki sighs, the unreadable _something_ bright in her eyes. "So perceptive when it comes to Zen, but so clueless when it is about yourself."

"But… She… Zen…"

You have no words. Thalia, in love with you?

"Zen." Your partner echoes. "That is the problem, is it not?"

She walks away deliberately, and you are furious with her. With Thalia. With Izana. But most of all, you are furious at yourself.

And that does not solve anything.

So you take up your shift, standing vigil at Zen's door, tracing back your memories to try and find where it all went wrong this badly.

The night is long.

* * *

This summer, another stack of proposals arrives at Wistalia Castle.

Your father has carefully organized them, from the one of highest importance down to the lowest, has stacked and bundled them and added a short note in his own writing. Each one of them is polite and well-written and makes not a single demand. But all of it does not hide the fact that these letters are, in truth, shackles; each single one attempting to bind you to the place you have taught yourself to be heir of.

It is strange, really, because you do not mind carrying the duty of the next head of family on your shoulders. What you do mind is the shadow of your father that looms over you, follows you wherever you go and of which you can never be free, and… It _aches._ It pains you, the fact that this man does not want to control your life but does, in his own, subtle way. This man who loves you regardless and which you love, too, but your love is best kept over the distance, when his comments and his advice and his glances do not feel like barbed wire cuts tearing open your skin. Every word he utters you search and weight, even if he has no intention of criticizing you. It _feels_ like it is, and – _no_.

You cannot.

It is still summer. It is still hot, almost painfully humid, and you breathe in and breathe out and the sensation between your ribs does not lessen, a million tiny, barbed-wire hooks tearing you into every direction at once, painfully and relentlessly.

You are still there, you remind yourself. You, and Zen, and Mitsuhide.

"They have both improved immensely," Mitsuhide says.

The two of you are watching Thalia and Zen spar.

It is the first time in weeks, and feels like a revelation. Like breaking the surface of an iced lake to breathe in again. Similarly, the air in your lungs hurts with its coldness. It is in moments like these when Zen appears to be completely relaxed and free; when his forced smile turns honest and the strain in his shoulders falls off like a shod skin. This probably is why Mitsuhide proposed training, today, despite Lord Haruka's complaints, despite the things you threw into his face at night, when you thought you could stay calm and inexplicably lost your patience. Despite the hesitation you can feel in his gaze, see in the way he clutches his sword. But then Zen laughs out loud when Thalia disarms him with a spectacular move. He dives for his weapon and jumps back into the ring with a look in his eyes neither of you has seen since the beginning of summer, and Thalia beckons in a _come at me_ gesture, challenging and expectant and glowing, and he _does_.

For this moment, this precious, precious heartbeats, he has put everything aside: his responsibilities, his worries in the Crown Prince's absence, his duty to the kingdom. The aimlessness he feels. His unrequited feelings for Celeg's lady knight. Even – or especially – the complicated emotions in the face of Thalia's feelings for Mitsuhide.

Despite everything: just now, Zen is happy, laughing and burning with life. And with his laughter, the tension drains from Mitsuhide like ice melting off a glacier in spring.

Zen blocks a swing and counters, and Thalia is forced back.

"Her guard is down," you note.

Mitsuhide laughs, and something within you… _expands_. "No, it's not. Wait…"

Zen sees it, too, and takes the opportunity, lightning-quick. And is blocked viciously. Suddenly, he faces a barrage of attacks that forces him to go on the defense himself.

You feel your lips twist and hide a smile. "You planned that."

"I planned that." Mitsuhide's expression is one of steely focus as he observes and analyzes every move, and that, you think, is what makes him such a brilliant knight, a far better one than Hisame, maybe even better than the Crown Prince. "Knight Namassos and I have been experimenting a bit. I meant to ask you, Kiki. If the counter she just used is used against an opponent with a different weapon, say, a battle axe, how much damage could it do? It would need to be modified, of course… What do you think?"

"I'd have to try it myself."

He spares a second to grin at her, breaks his laser concentration for a second. "Tomorrow?"

You nod, and he chuckles, deep in his chest. It is one of his small smiles that twists his lips right then, the one reserved for Zen and few other people, and... You can _feel_ it, a slight touch within your chest.

"Knight Namassos is leaving early tomorrow." The smile dims suddenly, sorrow creeping into his voice, and your chest grows cold instantly. "She has been deployed to Oriold."

The frontier garrison is at the North-Western border, half a day's ride from Lyrias. Clarines is not at war, has not been for decades. But if there is trouble brewing, it usually is in the West, where the country of Yelethanan shares its borders with Wistalia herself and her Northern Provinces of Wilant and Lyrias.

"There is no news of conflicts in the West." Your lips barely move.

These days, everything, in a way, is about Thalia Namassos. It would be so much easier if you could hate her, or, at least, feel the cold disdain you reserve for people you dislike. She is everything you grew up disliking, one way or another: she is pretty and self-confident and knows exactly where she stands. She draws people's eyes - she is not grey and plain and small, and nobody ever expects her to be anyone else but who she is. But she is also kind. She is humorous and fiercely intelligent, determined and always ready to help, and the fact that she is one of the few female knights alone – even if you never had an official education – puts you on the same side immediately.

You would not say she is your friend – she probably never will be. But she is important to the people that are important to you, and that is enough.

 _(But Mitsuhide smiles when he talks about her, he enjoys her presence, enjoys teaching her, and. No. There is no way you can ever put the needle-thin sensation of something burrowing into your chest into thought, much less into words.)_

"No." Mitsuhide shakes his head. He is still looking at the sparring couple. "We are not at war, and I do not think we will be in the nearest future. I am not worried for Knight Namassos. She will fit right in."

 _Knight Namassos._

It occurs to you, suddenly, that Mitsuhide has not once called Thalia by her first name.

"Zen will be heartbroken, but it is better that way."

And everything he feels is in his eyes, plain as a day: his worry for Zen, his love and devotion for the Second Prince. His vow to protect him from anything, even from his own heart, if necessary. He would give up his own life for Zen, so giving up his feelings for a woman should be the least he would do. That is, actually, what you can see him doing: stepping aside in order to let Zen have what they both love.

But. _That_.

That, actually, is not even in question here. Because Mitsuhide loves Zen, first and foremost and _only._ You watch him watch Zen, right now, and you do not think he could ever look at a woman and choose her over Zen.

And the knowledge… Surprisingly: it _hurts_. Icy, fiery, painfully, in an intensity you have not expected and that makes your knees go weak with terror. Something inside you untwists and re-knots again, the memory of the sudden pain fading only slowly. You focus on Zen: dancing, fighting, smiling; so young and beautiful and _alive_.

"Did Lord Haruka arrange for this? Did he tell the crown prince?"

"Neither." Mitsuhide grimaces. "Zen mentioned to the Commander-in-charge that Knight Namassos has experience with the kind of weather conditions they have at Oriold. They are in need of experts for avalanche search-and-rescue."

You did not expect this. "Zen did?"

Mitsuhide's eyes are still trained on the sparring pair on the grounds before you. "We talked. He agreed it was the best way."

You breathe in, breathe out. Think. And it dawns on you, slowly. It is an ideal solution, really: Thalia has no need to feel manipulated, or that she received her marching orders only because the prince favored her. She is being transferred to a post where she can do good, learn even more and advance quickly. And Zen. Zen will not face any murmurs and rumors in the castle anymore when it comes to Celeg's lady knight, and he has no need to feel guilty avoiding her. He might still see her during his inspection trips. But that will be in the future, and give him some time to heal. And Thalia, if she is anything like you feel she is, will choose her duty and her position over any lingering romantic attachments she might have formed towards anyone, even if said attachment is the Second Prince's Sword. Just like you would not give up your path for anything and anyone.

( _Is this,_ something inside you whispers _, still what makes up the core of your existence?_ You shut it down, viciously. _)_

The perfect solution, even if it is far from easy. And Mitsuhide instigated it; found the only way out that was open to all of you.

It is... Stunning.

Mitsuhide is amazing, always and again. He should not be able to surprise you anymore, but he does: with his kindness, his insight. His strategic planning. The way he understands his surroundings so well and feels it so deeply. He is nothing like all those colorless lords and knights your father keeps handing over to you on a silver tablet; those pretentious men who know their castles and their duties but not their people, who think fighting is for the sake of glory only. Mitsuhide might not have their noble heritages and their heaps of gold and their sprawling estates. But he is worth one of them a thousand times over.

"That, actually, is a pretty decent plan."

Mitsuhide laughs. A sun ray dances through the upper windows, hits his hair and blinds you, momentarily, and you blink. When you can see again he is grinning at you, holding his sword in front of him to show you something, patiently waiting for you to catch up. His smile is alive, vivid and so _like him_ , and the sudden revelation takes your breath away.

There is no sense in considering prospective partners if it is not Mitsuhide.


	4. Multi-colored Carnations

**iv. Multi-colored Carnations**

Thalia leaves Wistalia Castle on a bright morning, when the midday heat has not yet quite hit.

You do not see her off.

Instead, you are in your office, brooding over paperwork, and if you brood more over other things than over the contents of the contracts in front of you, then nobody notices.

Probably.

Okay, so Mitsuhide and Kiki notice. It is hard to hide anything from them, even if you wanted to. Mitsuhide has the annoying ability to tickle information from you, and Kiki – well, she probably draws it out of Mitsuhide. You _think._ Or she compensates not knowing you as well as Mitsuhide does with a frankly scary intuition that blends perfectly with Mitsuhide's strategic planning. In that way, and so many more, those stupid knights of yours are perfect for each other. Except that, of course, Kiki will have to marry a nobleman or someone who would benefit her family, and that Mitsuhide probably will not ever marry because he is so stupidly focused on you. Great. So it is not only you who is going to end up in an arranged marriage, but your knights, as well. Maybe, one day in the future, you can mourn all those lost opportunities collectively.

But maybe, you think, this has been a lesson, too.

Your brother has always treated life as such; whenever there was something you could not overcome, he would find a way to teach you. Or to make you see the lesson in the events; the message to understand and remember in order to not let anything like that happen again. For some time, _So what did you learn from this, Zen?_ had annoyed you so badly you had distanced yourself from your elder brother. But as you grow and gain experience it becomes clear what his intention was. It is impossible to forget that you love him, even if sometimes you wonder whether he loves you, too.

"Zen. It only took you a day to notice, this time. You are getting better."

Sometimes, though, you want to punch him, especially when he pulls stunts like that.

"This is not a game, brother! Just let me know when you are back!"

Izana Pax Wistalia, First Prince of Clarines, chuckles. "But that would not be as much fun, would it?"

You fold, sighing.

"Lord Haruka tells me you have been working hard."

He has? Well, now _that_ is a surprise. Lord Haruka seems to have made it his life goal to keep an eye on you, and the results have been less than flattering in the past. The old eagle eye has no sense of humor.

"And your reports have been concise and helpful. Your advice shows you would have dealt well with the situations in Raxd and Oriold. You should have taken stricter measures in the case of the deserters, though."

"I was of the opinion that they had been punished enough–"

"Give them a finger and they take the whole hand, Zen. You will be present when they will be brought to court next month."

"Yes, brother."

There is a lesson buried here for sure, like always, something your brother wants to show you; wants you to understand. But right now, you cannot feel anything else but the sudden, breath-catching absence of something you have carried around all summer, something you were not even sure was real and yet felt like it was suffocating you slowly and gently. Now–

Now, you can finally breathe again.

When you say it, you realize you mean it with your whole heart. "I will do better next time, I swear. You will not regret placing responsibility on me, brother."

Of course, Izana goes and destroys the moment within seconds, because elder brothers are like that. "Now run off. I am sure you have a lot you want to catch up on. And give my regards to Mitsuhide."

You glower at him, but it is possible that it lacks your usual venom.

"I will take my leave, then. Brother."

You are almost out of the door when his voice rings out again, soft this time. When you turn back, astonished, he does not smile. But his eyes are bright, and the warmth pooling somewhere in your chest is astounding.

"Good job, Zen. You did well."

Mitsuhide and Kiki are waiting when you leave your brother's office. They fall into step wordlessly, following you, reading the mood and not saying a word.

You know they are indispensable to you, have been since long already. But it is in moments like this one – when you feel depressed and ecstatic, confined and free at the same time – and they just are there and are quiet with you. It is moments like this one that make you realize how much you have come to rely on them: Kiki, always following quietly, serene and calm as the surface of a lake. Full of hidden depths, her warm kindnesses all the stronger for their rarity. And Mitsuhide, walking at your side and a step behind, always there, always loyal, Mitsuhide who would die for you, who wears his heart on his sleeve and his single-minded determination in his heart. Mitsuhide, who you trust with your life and everything you are.

Mitsuhide, whom Thalia had preferred to you.

 _(Second Prince, always and forever.)_

Thalia. Thalia Namassos with her green eyes that shone with the sincerity of her smile. She'd been beautiful, she'd been perfect, and she hadn't been anything you could ever hold onto. The truth of is it simple, and devastating: she had not loved you, had been in love with someone else. But she also would never have been yours, in no way possible. And the thought… _Hurts._ It presses down onto your chest like an invisible weight, contracts in the confines of your rib cage and makes it so, so hard to breathe. These are not butterflies, these are stones of grieving acceptance and shredded shards of denial that you will carry with you until you learn to live with it. Maybe, maybe, one day it will turn into a warm, fond memory, but that day is far off and you refuse to think of it. The pressure is ever-present, each breath agony.

 _Maybe tomorrow._

Mitsuhide: who looks at you with an odd mix of emotions in his eyes, half regret, half guilt and something else you cannot decipher. But it is _Mitsuhide._ Being angry at him is like being angry at yourself. The sorrow in your Sword's face mirrors the sorrow in your own heart.

You punch him, without warning.

Usually, Mitsuhide flinches, and folds, and huffs. It is for appearance, mostly, and you appreciate it when he does it. But he does not just stand there, today, but catches your fist.

"Stupid idiot!"

And smiles at your insult.

"Your schedule has opened up, now that Prince Izana is back," he offers, apparently out of nowhere, but of course he knows exactly the right thing to say and to do. "It has been some time since you last inspected Raxd…"

"You could also visit Celeg again," Kiki adds. And, because she is as cold as ice: "I am sure Mitsuhide would like to return to his home base again, too."

The ghost of emotion that flits across Mitsuhide's face makes you smile.

"Indeed," you nod. "It has been some time since I've been there, too. I'm sure my Royal Brother would appreciate an update on their status."

Kiki's face is impassive, as always. "I think that is a very good idea."

"Great!" You stretch your arms over your head, feel your shoulders strain. The pressure on your chest does not lighten, but. _Maybe._ _Tomorrow._ "We'll be leaving tomorrow at dawn."

"Maybe he won't be there," Mitsuhide mutters. "Maybe he's out."

You exchange an amused glance with Kiki. "Maybe."

Your heart still aches. But you have them, at least.

* * *

Celeg is beautiful in the morning light.

But then, Celeg is beautiful no matter the time of the day or the season. Kiki and Zen would laugh at you, but this is the place that feels even more like home than the place you were born in.

Zen, finally able to leave the castle after almost a year of confinement, is like a different person. Calm, relaxed and even funny, the few times he speaks, he seems to have left all his anxiety and depression behind. Only now and then, on your early-morning ride, his melancholy simmers through his mask. This is the prince you got to know, the one you found underneath the layers and layers of dutiful devotion, polite strength and iron composition: the prince with his endless optimism, boundless energy and a loyal streak as wide as the kingdom he is second to the throne to, with his honest nature and his open feelings that encompass everything and everyone and that make him so utterly beautiful. The prince you learned to love. The prince you have sworn to follow, no matter where and how.

"Are you coming, Mitsuhide?"

Zen and Kiki are waiting, bright-eyed. They do not look similar at all, but to you, they are two sides of the same thing that you've vowed to protect with the last beat of your failing heart.

And aren't you poetic today?

It is Celeg, you think, the sight of the place that had been your refuge from the day on your parents abandoned you, somewhere on the plains. The place where you learned to fight. The place where you carved out a small place for yourself, which led you to Castle Wistalia, which led you to Zen. The place that formed you so you could find what you finally have found. Granted: much, much later than you had hoped to, but forever. Your home.

It is with Zen.

Serving him is what you do, what you wish for and what you are. Some people have reasons to live: you have a life to protect.

It is this that Celeg reminds you off.

You smile, and continue on to where your prince and your partner are waiting.

"What took you so long?" Zen asks as you reach them. "Did you commune with the view, or something? I can have someone paint a picture of the garrison and you can put it up in your room and look at it whenever you feel like it."

"We've got time," Kiki says, and first it sounds like she is supporting you, and then you see the tiny smirk playing around her lips. "Sometimes, Mitsuhide simply is a bit slow on the uptake, after all."

"Like he never realizes when someone is in love with him?" Zen asks, sarcastically.

The silence that follows is… _painful_.

In it, you can hear the wind in the trees, the cry of a bird of prey in the distance. Your own, frantic heartbeat. _Now._ Nobody except for Kiki had said anything, and you had _hoped –_ But no. Of course he knew, Zen was not stupid. In fact, you would have been the stupid one if you had thought, even for a second, that he had not noticed. And he has every right to be angry, even if it is not logical, has every right to hate you just for being there. So you steel yourself, lift your eyes to look at him–

And Zen looks like he wants to disappear.

 _Oh._

Your face twists into a pained grimace as your mind changes gears within seconds. "Are we already joking about this?"

Zen looks like he wishes he had never opened his mouth and you hate it, _hate_ it, there is no way he should feel guilty about this, he should be the one angry at _you-_

And Kiki – Kiki, the traitor, wonderful, amazing Kiki – Kiki _laughs_.

And slowly – slowly, slowly – the terrified expression on Zen's face fades, replaced by a smile. A small one, twisted, too, flush with pain and insecurity and heartbreak. But a smile, nonetheless, and you could weep with joy at its sight.

"I have no idea what she sees in you," Zen says, his voice cracking slightly. And your heart contracts with love for this brave, strong boy who picks himself up again and again, no matter what, and soldiers on: royal, indeed. "Of the two of us, I definitely am the better-looking one."

Kiki nods, her face impassive, but something flashes in her eyes and your heart… _twists_. "I agree."

"I do not know what this is about," Vice commander Lugis voice says, behind you.

You pretend to be surprised.

You do not need to pretend the dislike that flashes over your face but you temper it, melt it down until it is just slightly too warm to be comfortable, harmless and just barely bearable.

"But if the Prince and Lady Kiki agree that Sir Mitsuhide is wrong, then I agree with them, of course."

Zen looks like he wants to laugh, and that way, all of this is worth it.

* * *

The morning sun greets you.

But it does not carry the desperate heat it carried just a few weeks back anymore; is just strong enough to warm your skin and paint the gardens and the white marble walls of Castle Wistalia, and. It is a new day, and that… is _good._

A smile, a greeting.

"Good morning, Kiki!"

Mitsuhide is a morning person. Zen is absolutely not. You… You don't know what you are, exactly. There is still so much you need to figure out, so much to learn: small things, like the food you like and the things you enjoy in your pastime. And the larger things; the things that define you. The things that you _are._ Because this has eluded you, so far: you still feel like you are a loose collection of other people's hopes and expectations, ready to fall apart at any moment. Lady Kiki Seiran, future heiress, daughter, marriage interest. Puzzle piece in a game of power and wealth. You are a woman, a future mother, a pretty face, a womb to carry the heirs of one blood line or another. Sometimes, people even see more than your face, your body and your status; Hisame, in a way, even acknowledged your intelligence and your swordsmanship. But nobody has accepted you as unconditionally as Zen and Mitsuhide have.

Your partner is not deterred at your refusal to answer.

Two years and he knows you, probably does so better than your own father. It is strange how it happens; that people go from strangers to acquaintances to – partners. Oh, and there it is again: that knowledge, bone-deep and final.

 _If it will be anyone,_ you think, _it will be you, Mitsuhide._

You are not quite ready to deal with what that means, and what it will change. Probably everything. Perhaps nothing.

"I am on my way to the training halls," he continues, and your strides synchronize. For each one of his, you need almost two steps, but inexplicably, it _works_. He probably never notices. "Are you going there, too?"

You nod. He beams.

"Fancy a spar?"

It feels like you have not squared off in a long time.

This summer was so full of training and work and even after the Crown Prince returned, the few outings from the palace – an inspection of the Western border, a quick trip to visit the homes of the Lords of the Council – feel like they were ages ago, and far too short. Already, the wind is cool on your heated face, the first leaves turning gold and red. But the humid summer heat, the night breeze from the ocean and the heavy scent of the wisteria – those are the things you want to remember, want to burn into your memory and then forget it all _._ These days with Zen in the halls of Castle Wistalia, in his office; the sound of the pen and rustling pages the only things heard. And nights of sitting at the open window of your room, enjoying the cool breeze, or meeting up with Mitsuhide after hours to review and discuss the plans for the next days. These are the things you will remember when you are back home, bound to Evergreen Manor and imprisoned in your duties as the heiress of the Seiran family: this summer spent with the two people you love most.

"Weapons?"

"Your choice."

"Swords."

He grins at you, a reckless, familiar grin that makes your heart beat speed up and your blood rush faster.

"I will beat you today."

You feel a smirk stretch your lips, uncalled for and not unwelcome. "You can try."

A ritual; a game. An endless challenge. Two years ago, when you first came to the palace, you fought when nobody could risk losing. Now, you are almost equal; in one year, you suspect, you will be able to fight for hours without anyone gaining advantage. But that does not matter, anyway: you do not fight Mitsuhide for the sake of victory.

Today, too, you spar.

Fighting Mitsuhide is like dancing, like flying: flashing steel and singing swords, eternity enclosed into the space that is made up of the two of you only. Minutes compressed into heartbeats. In your hands, the worn leather of your sword feels alive; the air tastes like crystals in your lungs, clear and brilliant. You could spar with him forever: _Mitsuhide_. He smiles, ferally–

" _Oh no! PRINCE ZEN!"_

A soldier's voice cuts through the silence and Mitsuhide _falters_ , a mere heartbeat, the fraction of a second–

"Go, Kiki!"

And you dive through your partner's defense and sweep out his feet from under him.

He springs back within seconds, looking both indignant and sheepish, casting a glance to his right. "That's not funny, Zen!"

The second prince is watching you from the window ledge, his legs stretched out in front of him. And he is grinning, widely. "You should have seen your face!"

Mitsuhide, unable to hold a grudge, grumbles. "I don't understand why Kiki goes along with this."

And.

Your _heart_. Just. You would give it away, except - you cannot. It is his already.

You have the dim notion that this will hurt, someday, that the soft warmth you feel pressing against your rib cage will turn into something vicious, painful and cold. But right now, it makes you smile.

"A victory is a victory," you say, desperately trying to keep your face straight.

Your partner looks at you, sighs. Looks at Zen, looks back at you. Sees both his grin and your poker-face, and sighs, again.

Smiles.

"Okay. So what's the plan for today?"

Your prince looks at Mitsuhide with an expression of vague _shouldn't you be the one knowing this._ "Shouldn't you be the one knowing this?"

Mitsuhide sighs again, and Zen laughs.

If you need to be anything _,_ you think, distantly, you might as well be this: the Kiki they know. The Kiki that lives and breathes with them, in this castle, this time. The Kiki who shares the days with them, the duties, the work – but also the laughter, the happiness. You can be her: the Kiki they know; and treasure. You can be this person with everything it entails: the work and the fun, the good and the bad. This is who you want to be.

Who you are, for now, at least.

With that one smile and that one laugh you feel your heart expand, feel it rise towards the sky like a bird in flight; soar over the ocean and into the blue. And, for the first time in your life, you hope that it will never return.


	5. Yellow Camellia

**A/N** _In case someone wondered:_

 _White lilies – faith, purity, innocence_

 _Zinnia – loyalty_

 _Hydrangea – pride_

 _Carnations – fascination, love_

 _Yellow Camellia – longing, yearning_

 _(Check four different web sites, and you end up with seven different meanings to one and the same flower (roughly). So I went with the Japanese "Hanakotoba" flower language and hope I didn't mess up all too badly. Feel free to let me know if I did.)_

* * *

 **v. Yellow Camellia**

For you, Zen Skye Wistalia, Second Prince of Clarines, this summer will forever be the summer before:

Before Shirayuki stepped into your life – or, before you stumbled into hers, more accurately – the summer in which your path was set by an accidental acquaintance made carelessly at the border of your country. The summer, you later realize, set on the brink separating your childhood and your adult life, before you finally learned to accept and even embrace the obligations you always knew you had but still had fought for so long. The summer before you understood that patience is a virtue, and that it takes the necessary balance of patience and action in order to not only live, but live a good and fulfilled life.

For you, just eighteen and already familiar with the obligations of the crown, it is the last summer you manage to push aside the weight of the duties that have always lasted on your shoulders and most likely always will. The summer you – maybe! – have a crush on a lady knight and maybe resent your best friend a little bit and realize that there is a difference, friend-knight-protector, but you are determined to blurr the lines as much as possible. That summer, you learn an important lesson even if there is no way you can voice it yet. This summer full of sun and heat and storm and the flames of a firework between the green trellises of wisteria beyond the training room windows: for you, it will forever be the summer before.

The summer before you will meet the girl that will be the love of your life and the woman of your dreams; the summer before you find the girl that you will marry, eventually; because she is everything that is good in the world, and because she finds the best in you no matter how great the darkness and how deep the shadows.

The summer before Shirayuki comes into your life.

* * *

For you, Mitsuhide Rouen, the Second Prince's guard, this summer will forever be the summer before:

Before Zen learns how to stand entirely on his own – before he stops leaning on you – the summer in which the one person you have dedicated your life to takes that one, last step away from you. The summer, you later realize, that is the defining moment for another person while you just stop walking forward, just continue to follow, the summer that one person younger than you sees what you should have been able to see a long, long time ago but you have refused to. The summer before you learn that people need to move forward, that nobody is content with staying the way one is; but also that you do not mind as long as it is for the sake of your most important person.

For you, twenty-four years old and having known nothing but duty and loyalty, it is the first summer you begin to confine the soft voice of doubt in your heart to the darkness hidden deep within it, a darkness that will remain even many, many years later. The summer something precious is taken away from you, and, up to the day, you are unable to say what exactly it was but you feel its absence keenly. This summer full of heat and familiarity and the soft scratch of a pen on paper, resounding through the silence of Zen's office from where he sits at the table, working diligently, will forever be the summer before for you.

The summer before you fail to realize that despite yourself remaining stagnant, some things change, and people do, too; the summer before your partner and the only person in the world you trust, Zen aside, leaves you behind to go to a place you will never be able to follow.

The summer before everything begins to change.

* * *

You know the song. You know the book.

You know these two men, the most important people in your life. You know what they think, how they feel. Maybe it is because you are a woman and can read their hearts. Maybe it is because you love them, each one of them, albeit in different ways.

This revelation will forever be the one thing you remember when thinking back to this summer.

For you, Katherine Seiran, it is not the summer before things change. It is the summer that changes everything.


End file.
